


I Can Only Try to Make It Right

by BoudicaMuse



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Anxiety, Curses, Deaf Clint Barton, Dogs, F/M, First Dates, First Time, Flirting, Fluff, Showing Off
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-21 06:25:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17038436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BoudicaMuse/pseuds/BoudicaMuse
Summary: Darcy adopts a dog and gets more than she bargained for.





	I Can Only Try to Make It Right

**Author's Note:**

> As always, the background here is a mish mash of MCU Darcy and comics Clint living in a combined world. 
> 
> Title is from Gimme All Your Love by Alabama Shakes

“Are you sure?”

“Very,” Darcy said. She didn’t come all the way down here just for the hell of it. If all she wanted to do was look at the dog, she could have just stayed at home. That's what Petfinder was for.

“And you know about the health issues? The deafness and the fact that he's recovering from surgery?”

“It's all in his online profile. As is his intake date and I know you guys only keep them for two weeks. His time here is almost up and I am not letting this dog go to the big fire hydrant in the sky. Do I need to sign something? Swipe a card?”

“He's had three nearly successful escape attempts since he's been here,” the lady tried one last time.

“Yeah well, I'd try to escape this place too,” Darcy said, pointedly taking out her wallet.

The lady sighed and finally slid a clipboard across the counter. “Just the highlighted sections.”

Paperwork all filled out and her bank account a couple hundred bucks lighter, the lady finally led Darcy back to the chain link cages where the dogs were kept.

The dog she'd picked out was a yellow lab that the shelter had named Arrow because the vet had pulled one out of him after he got caught in a fight between the Avengers and Enchantress last week. Hawkeye was famous for never missing a target, so it had to be the fault of that Asgardian superbitch, Enchantress. It was just another reason to hate her on what was turning into a long, long list. Darcy planned on changing the poor pup's name the second she could come up with something less ironic.

“He's been extremely shy of humans since we got him in,” the shelter lady told her as they walked. “Not aggressive, just wary and doesn't like being touched. He takes medicine like a champ, though, so you shouldn't have any trouble helping him finish the antibiotics. And here he is!”

Curled up in a tight ball in the back corner of the cage, the dog sprung up the second they were in sight, causing him to yelp in pain from the sudden movement. It seemed almost instantly forgotten though because he then bounded over to the door of the cage and put his front paws up on the chain link until he was almost at eye level with Darcy. His tongue lolled out and his tail wagged excitedly. This was what the lady considered shy behavior?

“Hi buddy! I'm Darcy. Do you want to come home with me?”

The dog gave a short woof and then went back down on all fours and backed up, like he was waiting patiently for the shelter lady to unlock his cage.

The lady handed Darcy a collar and leash first. “Be ready to get that on him the second I open the door. This is how he tried to escape last time.”

Darcy unclipped the collar, prepared to move fast if she had to, but her non-existent ninja skills weren't necessary. The dog just stood there and calmly allowed Darcy to put on the collar and leash.

“What a good boy. You don't want to escape me, do you?” she crooned to him.

He answered by headbutting her in the legs. Laughing, Darcy took the hint and got them out of there as fast as possible. She'd already done a pet store run for all the necessities, so all she had to do was convince him to get on the subway with her and get him back to his new, loving, non-death trap of a home.

“Okay, so the MTA has some ridiculous rules about dogs on the subway, but since I'm a genius, I've got this covered,” Darcy narrated. To her dog. Her deaf dog.

Whatever, she'd be lying if she said this wasn't also for the benefit of any nosy people around her judging her for what she was about to do. Like the jerk to her right in an obnoxious anti-Avengers shirt for instance. She wanted to give him the stink eye for it, but people were punchy these days.

From her purse, she took out a giant blue Ikea bag and shook it until it unfurled to its truly enormous size. The dog backed up a step.

“No, look, I cut holes for your legs and everything. I know it's ugly, but you'll be very comfortable.” She kneeled in front of him and spread the bag open on the ground so he could step into it and then tugged on his leash a little so he'd get the idea. The dog sat down.

“Okay,” Darcy said. “I know it's undignified. I get it. But it's the only way I can get you home. I can't afford a cab ride after your adoption fees and I definitely can't afford a ticket for bringing an unbagged dog on the subway. Please get in the bag?”

The dog huffed out a breath that could almost be considered a sigh, but stood and endured the bagging. Darcy gave him extra pats and a kiss on the head and he leaned his head on her leg the whole way home. It made it a little easier to bear the smiling image of Enchantress, staring down at her from the overhead adspace.  _ The heroine New York deserves! _ No one had even crossed out the silent e in heroine yet. What was this city coming to?

Once inside her apartment, Darcy took his leash and collar off and hung them on a hook by the door. With his regular Houdini impressions, he really needed to have a collar and tags on at all times, but he needed a name to get tags.

“Thor,” Darcy tried. “No, he's more of a golden retriever, isn’t he?”

Meanwhile, the dog had padded over to the kitchen and was whining in front of the fridge, looking back at her with sad eyes.

“Aw, you hungry, boy?”

The dog gave another short woof.

“I guess that means yes in your language, huh? And no is just stubborn silence? Noted. Don't worry, I got you the good stuff.”

She took a bag out of her cupboard and filled the new dog bowl she had just bought. She set it in front of him and turned to fill a water bowl for him. When she turned back, the dog was back at the fridge, trying to nudge it open with the top of his head.

“Hey, stop that! Don't knock the kibble 'til you've tried it. It was the most expensive brand and it's supposed to feed your wolf spirit or something.”

The dog just stared at her and then while still looking her in the eye, whacked the side of the fridge with one paw.

Darcy sighed. “You like pizza?”

The dog woofed his yes woof and danced his front paws excitedly. Well, maybe just once wouldn't hurt. Darcy put a couple of cold slices on a plate on the ground and left him to it. That was supposed to be her dinner, but she could make herself some oatmeal later. When he was done, he jumped up to join her on the couch, yelping when the movement agitated his wound.

“You should have just stayed on the floor, you big dummy. You're lucky you haven't reopened it, moving around like that. Hey! Maybe that should be your name. What do you think, Lucky?”

Instead of a woof or silence, the dog huffed irritably and then began vocalizing something between a whine and a howl in short and long bursts.

“What on Earth is that? Jeez, it almost sounds like Morse code. Sorry, buddy. I don't know Morse code. Just English, html, and Pig Latin.”

The dog huffed again and laid his head on his paws. Darcy leaned over and wrapped her arms around him and he picked his head up and laid it on her arm and she could almost pretend he was hugging her back.

“Don't worry, buddy,” she said into his fur, “I know you've had a hard couple of weeks. We all have. But you're home now. Everything's going to be fine.”

***

The next morning Darcy arrived at work disheveled, disturbed, and overall just really tired of the current mental state of most New Yorkers. When Jane's distracted wave hello turned into shock, Darcy realized she must look as bad as she felt.

“What happened? You didn’t try going through the front doors, did you?”

“No, I took the building’s subway entrance like usual. Damn protesters made it through anyway. Security shut it down pretty quickly, but I practically got stampeded getting off the train.”

Jane picked a dirty candy wrapper out of her hair and they both shuddered in disgust. “Are you hurt?”

“Maybe a couple bruises. Nothing serious.” Darcy dropped her stuff on her desk and combed through her hair just in case any more trash decided to hitch a ride. “Any word from Thor about fixing this whole mess?”

“Nothing definitive. Enchantress has done too good of a job turning the city against the Avengers. I think Wanda and Strange are working the magic angle and everyone else is still looking for Hawkeye.”

“God, it's so weird that he just disappeared in the middle of the fight like that. Thor's sure he didn't get whooshed to Asgard?”

“As sure as he can be,” Jane said with a shrug. “I'm more worried about you, though. I don't think it's a good idea for you to keep coming in to work while all this anti-Avengers sentiment is brewing. You could work from home for a while. Or stay with me in the residence? We're pretty safe once we're in here.”

“Working from home might be an option, but I definitely can't stay here.” Darcy whipped out her phone and showed Jane her screensaver. “I did it! He was two days away from being put down and now he's mine.”

Jane cooed at the picture of the dog sitting up and smiling, his tongue hanging out of his mouth. “He looks so much happier there than he did in the shelter pictures. What's his name?”

“Haven't decided yet. He grumbled at everything I suggested last night.” Darcy swiped through her camera roll for Jane. The dog had been surprisingly willing to let her take as many pictures as she wanted, Darcy telling him what a handsome boy he was the whole time.

They got to the end of the photoshoot and Jane went back to her desk. “Didn't you tell me that he's deaf? I don't think he has an opinion on his name.”

“Oh he definitely does. I can tell he's really smart. Conned me into eating pizza for dinner and slept on the bed instead of the brand new dog bed I bought him.”

“I don't think that makes him smart, it just makes you a pushover.”

Darcy scowled at Jane and pointedly turned on her computer monitor. She did too have a smart dog. Oh, she was for sure a pushover, but there was no denying her dog's intelligence once you met him. She'd gotten ready for bed the night before and he'd waited politely in the living room until she told him he could come into the bedroom. And then he'd pulled down the covers with his mouth and climbed into bed like a person. He may be deaf and a dog, but he followed directions and behaved better than most of her ex-boyfriends.

***

The ride home put Darcy on edge. She wasn't directly a target, but working near the Avengers, being friends with one of them, it put her a little too close to the line of fire for comfort. Getting caught in the crush of protesters that morning hadn't been the first time she'd gotten in a scuffle with riled up Avengers haters. The whole damn city had lost its mind and it only got worse with each day that passed.

It started slowly with people getting caught in magically laid traps and Enchantress's illusions making people think the Avengers were at fault. As days went by, more and more people could be heard grumbling to each other about masked heroes in general and the Avengers in particular. Three days ago, magically projected images of Enchantress looking ethereally beautiful and dangerous had appeared in the sky and told New Yorkers about the terrible threat the Avengers posed. Darcy had never been so afraid of her fellow human beings as when she saw the fervor in their eyes once the images faded. So far it had only manifested as peaceful, if boisterous, protests but that would only last for so long.

It wasn't safe out there for an Avenger and it definitely wasn't safe out there for anyone Avenger-adjacent. The sustained, low grade fear taking root at the base of her skull was exhausting. She’d take an eight minute, worlds-merging alien invasion over this any day. Jane's offer to have her work from home was more than welcome. With her sweet new doggy to cuddle with while she worked, it would practically be a vacation.

Unlocking her door, Darcy finally felt the tension in her shoulders ease. She'd take the dog for a walk, they'd get some dinner, maybe watch some Netflix. The day was still salvageable.

The door swung open and the first thing she saw was the dog, laying about five feet from the door like he'd been there all day, waiting for her to get home. Darcy's heart melted. Mid-melt, she saw what he had done and her heart froze right back up.

At the entrance to the kitchen, he'd dragged his bag of kibble around until it was spread all over the floor and in the middle of all that mess, spelled out in kibble, were the words  _ I'M HUMAN _ .

“I knew you were smart,” Darcy said, sinking to her knees.

The dog -- no -- the human in a dog's body, walked over to stand eye to eye with her. The vet who'd patched him up had said he was mostly deaf, but he'd been able to understand her fine so far. Maybe he could lip read. God, this was insane.  _ She _ was insane.

“You're a human?”

Woof.

“Did Enchantress do this to you?”

Woof.

Darcy chewed on her lip while she tried to figure out what to do. Maybe Scarlet Witch or Doctor Strange could reverse the curse, but they were pretty busy with disarming all of Enchantress's traps and illusions. It might take a while before they could get around to helping out some poor schmuck who had gotten caught in the crossfire. Her eyes lingered on the still healing arrow wound on his side. Arrows. Only one guy she knew used arrows and he'd been suspiciously missing since the very same fight Fido here had been injured in.

“Holy shit. Hawkeye?!”

Excited, multiple woofs.

“Oh Jesus. You know what this means, right?”

Adorable doggy head tilt.

“You gotta get back in the Ikea bag.”

Hawkeye-the-dog growled and flopped down on his stomach in protest.

“Okay, you're right. For this, I think I can get Tony to send a car.”

Since she didn't actually have Tony Stark's personal number, it took several long minutes of arguing with Jane that no, she wasn't crazy and yes, she was really sure that her dog was the missing Hawkeye in disguise. Jane said she'd talk to Tony and call her back.

Hawkeye-the-dog whined and trudged over to the couch. He managed to hop up without yelping in pain this time, so at least he was feeling better.

“Sorry dude, but it is kind of a wild story. I'll order another pizza while we wait.”

She sat next to him on the couch and dialed up her usual pizza place. Benny, the delivery guy, was going to give her shit for ordering twice in one week, but her cupboards would make Old Mother Hubbard feel sorry for her and she was so not going grocery shopping right now.

She doubled her usual order, because poor Hawkeye had eaten nothing but shelter kibble and her leftovers for the past two weeks. Dude deserved a whole fresh pizza to himself. Without thinking, she reached out and smoothed her hand over the soft fur on top of his head. Then she caught herself and yanked her hand away.

“Sorry! I forgot.” Darcy sighed and crossed her arms to keep herself from petting him again. “Man, I was really excited to finally have a dog.”

There was a pause and then he got up and shifted so that he was laying flush along her leg. Darcy put her hand on his back, not petting, just touching. This would probably be awkward once he turned back into a human. She knew  _ of _ Hawkeye, had seen him in human form in passing around the tower, but she didn't even know his real name. With any luck, by the end of the night he'd be back in human form, but then they'd both have this memory of them both being aware he was human and cuddling like he was her dog anyway. Well, she was just going to refuse to think about it, because she needed this brief moment of calm comfort in such a weird ass day.

Her phone rang with a video call from an unknown number and reluctantly, Darcy swiped to accept it. It had better be Tony. The call connected and it was indeed the richest man in the world calling her with his face too close to the camera just like her grandma. Fucking old people and their obsession with video calls. Darcy held the phone so Hawkeye could see too.

“Is that supposed to be him?”

Hawkeye woofed.

“He spelled out a message for me in kibble. Even if he's not Hawkeye, he's definitely a cursed human and he deserves to be uncursed as soon as possible. Ask him any questions you want. The vet said he's mostly deaf, but I think he can lip read.”

Tony's eyes narrowed and flicked between her and Hawkeye. “Deaf, huh? Alright, Barkton. One woof for no, two woofs for yes.”

Before he could ask anything, Hawkeye started doing that weird short and long vocalizing he'd done the night before. Yeah, that was definitely Morse code. God, she was a fucking idiot.

First Tony looked puzzled, then intrigued, then he laughed. “Yeah, fuck you too buddy.” Then over his shoulder, “It's him!”

“So you're going to come get him?” Darcy asked.

“Yeah, hang tight.”

The call cut out abruptly and Darcy rolled her eyes at the blank screen.

***

Halfway through their pizzas, there was another knock on the door, and this time five badly disguised Avengers filed past her to stand around in her suddenly cramped living room.

The Black Widow crouched in front of where Hawkeye was still chilling on the couch and said something in sign language. He woofed back at her and the corner of her mouth curled up ever so slightly.

There was a big blond slab of beefcake lingering by the door and when she made eye contact with him, he smiled and said, “It's Darcy, right? I'm Steve Rogers. Thanks for taking care of him for us.”

He seemed nice. She should have been nice back. But somehow getting the full force of Captain America's aw shucks ma'am charm just made all of her anger over the past couple of weeks well to the surface.

“Sure. So you got a plan for getting rid of this Enchantress chick? Because not only did I get shoved into a turnstile by a bunch of protesters this morning, but now I'm about to lose my dog, too.”

“You were involved in this morning's skirmish under our tower?” Thor said. “Jane didn't mention it to me.”

He looked her over like he was trying to see the bruises on her arm and side that now hurt like hell if she so much as looked at them. Thankfully she was pretty sure he didn't have the x-ray vision necessary to see through two layers of sweaters.

“I'm fine, big guy. I'm just going to work from home for a while.”

“The security's been tightened on the tower,” Tony said. He'd been busy taking pictures of Hawkeye with his phone, but not too busy to eavesdrop apparently. “There won't be another incident like this morning.”

“That's what you said last time,” Darcy said.

“No, I believe what I said was, ‘fuck those fucking bastards. See if I save them from a nuclear warhead that's about to destroy the city next time.’ Something like that. I'll have Jarvis send you the recording.”

“We do have a plan, Miss Lewis,” Steve said quietly. “We just needed Hawkeye to implement it. So thank you, because we'd be in pretty deep trouble without you.”

Aw man. Now she felt bad for being mean.

“I have it,” the last member of their little party said. The woman who must be Wanda had gone straight to Hawkeye and had been staring at him with eerie pink-red glowing eyes. She brought her hands up now and red energy flowed around them and then out and around Hawkeye. They all watched as the yellow labrador who had been Hawkeye slowly morphed into a blond, muscular, and very naked man.

Quick as a flash, Black Widow tossed one of Darcy's throw pillows onto Hawkeye's lap, disappointingly covering his naughty bits. Remembering that he hadn't looked when he'd had the chance to see her naked, Darcy averted her eyes, but it was too late. The image of his very fine form was already locked in her memory.

“Hey guys,” the newly restored Hawkeye said after an awkward pause. “Anyone think to bring me some clothes?”

Steve handed over a bag and they all politely ignored his awkward, naked shuffle over to the bathroom.

“He was two days away from being put down, you know,” Darcy said to no one in particular.

The silence following that statement was too heavy. Darcy needed to do something, so she grabbed her broom and dustpan out of the closet and started sweeping up the very expensive dog food she wouldn’t be needing any more.

“I think I will wait in the car,” Wanda said and the rest of them made vague noises of agreement and followed her out. Thor gave Darcy a firm shoulder clasp, but even he seemed eager to get away from the weird energy she was putting out.

Darcy could hardly blame them. She too would really like not being in this weird mood that was a combination of hurt, scared, pissed off, lonely, and somewhere in there, still happy that she had played a part in finding Hawkeye. There wasn’t really anything she could do about it though, except wait and hope it went away. And clean. She could clean.

By the time Hawkeye got out of the bathroom, the kibble had been swept up, the pizza had been put away, and her second throw pillow had been fluffed. He tossed the one he’d used for modesty onto the couch and it landed perfectly in the corner of the couch.

“So, we haven’t officially met. I’m Clint.” He held his hand out to shake and it was warm and rough and totally engulfed hers.

“Darcy.”

“Yeah, I know. I mean, I’ve known who you are for a while. You have no idea how relieved I was when I saw you walk into that shelter.”

That was kind of like hearing that one of the popular kids at school knew your name. She felt flattered, then felt annoyed with herself for getting excited over someone making the miniscule effort of noticing her existence and committing her name to memory. But hey, the guy had just spent two weeks as a dog, so she could be gracious and settle for the fact that at least he was introducing himself now.

“I just wish I had made the decision sooner. I’m sorry you spent as much time in there as you did,” she said.

He waved his hand. “Eh, I’ve stayed worse places.”

“They were going to kill you, Clint. Tomorrow. They would have killed you tomorrow.” Shit. She was absolutely not going to cry in front of him.

“Whoa, hey. They didn’t, okay? Thanks to you. Thank you for saving me from certain death. Listen, I’m going to hug you now, okay?”

He wrapped his arms around her and she buried her face in his chest, where she could feel the crinkle of chest hair through his soft, threadbare t-shirt. Oh, that was nice. She took a deep breath and felt a lot of her tension flow out of her.

“You definitely hug better as a human. Smell better, too.”

“Thanks?” he said with a surprised chuckle.

Darcy popped her head up. “Oh shit, you heard that? Are you not deaf as a human?”

“Hearing aids.” He turned his head so she could see the barely noticeable piece of electronics tucked into his ear canal.

“Oh, right. Of course.” She released him and stepped back since he seemed ready to hold on as long as she needed and she felt like she was starting to take advantage of the situation. “You did pretty well reading lips last night, though.”

“I’m okay at it when I pay attention. I had a pretty good reason to pay attention to yours.” His eyes dipped down to her lips in a pretty deliberate way and then he quirked a grin that had her weak in the knees.

Oh god, was he flirting? Darcy didn’t think she could handle flirting right now. Something really inappropriate was bound to pop out of her mouth.

“You probably need to get going. Supervillains to defeat, reputations to recover, that sort of thing,” she said instead. She even managed to sound mostly normal when she said it. She went to the door and held it open for him, her other arm tucked tightly across her chest so she wouldn’t reach out for another hug.

“Yeah. I guess so. I’ll see you around?”

He tucked his hands in his pockets and his open smile faded from his face. Mood effectively killed, Darcy mentally kicked herself for being such a fucking anxious mess. He passed through the door and Darcy called out his name. He turned, and now Darcy actually had to say something. Shit.

“I just. I’m really glad you’re you again.”

He smiled at her again and Darcy’s stomach flipped over. She closed the door. That whole thing was just going to have to wait until later.

***

_ YOU PROBABLY OWE THE AVENGERS AN APOLOGY _

_ Thanks to a covert operation run by the Earth’s Mightiest Heroes themselves, rising hero Enchantress is now the lead suspect in a series of crimes that have been plaguing Manhattan. Though she led a convincing viral campaign blaming the Avengers for events like last week’s sinkhole on 48th Street and the explosion at Battery Park, there is now damning evidence that Enchantress was in fact the true culprit. _

_ Rather than allow herself to be taken in for questioning by police, Enchantress used her mystical powers to teleport away and is still at large. None of the Avengers were available for comment at the time of this story, but click  _ _ here _ _ for exclusive audio of Enchantress taking credit for being the biggest pain in the neck the city’s experienced since the last time aliens invaded New York. Are you guys tired? I’m tired. _

Darcy closed the tab with a relieved sigh. She’d heard vague details second hand from Jane last night, but it was good to see the story breaking online. Whether the citizens of New York believed it would remain to be seen.

There was a knock at the door and Darcy didn’t even jump. She’d worked hard to ease her anxiety over the past two days by avoiding people, staying off social media, and cleaning everything in sight. She wasn't exactly a shining  beacon of mental health, because who was these days, but she was pretty much back to her personal baseline. After reading that blog post, she even had a little skip in her step.

The peep hole showed Clint waiting in the hall and Darcy took a deep breath, put on her winningest smile, and opened the door. He blinked at her in surprise, then gave her a slow once over, taking in her oh-so-sexy attire of oversized cardigan, sleep shorts, and big, wooly socks. He must have liked what he saw though, because his lips tilted up in a slow grin.

“You look good. Feeling better?” he asked.

“Thanks, I am. How about you?  Manage to stop jumping up on couches long enough to finally heal?”

“Almost good as new. Can we come in?”

“We?” Darcy finally looked away from Clint’s stupid, handsome face long enough to realize he wasn’t alone and that at the end of the leash he was holding was the cutest dog she had ever seen. “Oh my god, who is thiiiiiis?”

She dropped to her knees and put her hand out for the dog to smell. It was some kind of mutt, definitely part beagle by the big floppy ears, but with the coloring of a german shepherd. The dog cautiously sniffed her hand, then came closer and shoved its face in hers, sniffing and licking her nose.

“His name is Buster, but you can feel free to change it.”

Darcy stared up at him in confusion, while Buster did his best to climb into her lap. “You want me to rename your dog?”

“No, he’s -- aw man, I’m really screwing this up. He’s yours. I went to the shelter and picked out a dog for you and I’m just now realizing this was probably a bad idea. I can find him another home if you don’t want him.”

“What? Shut up, you’re not taking another dog from me. He’s mine.” Darcy wrapped her arms around Buster's neck and he licked her cheek so vigorously it knocked her glasses askew.

“You sure? I should have let you pick one out yourself, but this guy was pretty cute and he only had a few days left.”

“I love him.” Darcy kissed the silky soft fur on top of Buster's head, then stood and placed a lightning quick peck on the underside of Clint's jaw since that was as high as she could reach without his help. “Thank you.”

The tips of Clint's ears turned pink and he rubbed at the back of his head. “So does that mean I get to come in?”

“Oh! Yes, of course. Sorry.”

Standing aside, she let them both into the apartment and Darcy watched in amusement when Buster immediately trotted off to explore the apartment. She got the doggy bowl out of the hall closet where she'd hidden away all of her dog accessories and filled it with water for him. Damn, she'd have to buy more food now.

Clint leaned against her kitchen counter, filling the tiny space with the breadth of his shoulders. “So you've probably heard by now, but Enchantress is gone. Most of the propaganda I saw on the way here was already defaced. Things seem to be getting back to normal. Steve wanted me to make sure you knew we took care of it. I think he's worried you don't like him.”

“I don't  _ not _ like him. He's fine.” Leaning against the counter next to him, she knocked her shoulder into his arm. “I'm way more impressed by the guy who got turned into a dog, got stuck in a kill shelter, and still didn't harm any of the humans keeping him there. You could have broken out anytime you wanted, couldn't you?”

Clint hesitated, then shrugged.  “I was hoping it wouldn't come to that, but no, I wasn't going to just let them euthanize me. Don't think that makes me any less grateful for your help, though. Seriously, thank you.”

“I don’t need any more thanks. I mean, you got me a dog that presumably isn’t a cursed human this time. That’s a pretty good thank you.”

Clint nodded. “I checked the whole shelter.”

Darcy tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and hoped she wasn't misreading things. “Good. So we’re square. How about you take me out to dinner anyway?”

Apparently there was a piece of hair she missed because Clint followed the path of her hand with his own and the brush of his fingers over the shell of her ear made her whole body sing. Why had she suggested dinner? That was hours away. Surely they could make do with the hummus she had in her fridge and then once the pretense of a date was satisfied, she could just drag him back to her bedroom.

“Yeah, I'll take you out to dinner,” Clint said. “We need to do a couple other things first, though. Get dressed, I've got a whole day planned.”

Buster chose that moment to come into the kitchen for some water and Darcy fell in love with his cute little face all over again. She got down on the ground, the better to give him all the love he deserved. On the one hand, she had an extremely attractive, gainfully employed man who had taken it upon himself to plan a full day of activities. That was like finding a fucking unicorn in the dating world. But on the other, how was she just going to leave her brand new dog when they hadn’t even had a chance to bond yet?

“Can Buster come?” She put their faces together so they were giving Clint double-barreled puppy dog eyes.

“Well it’d be pretty weird if we went to the dog park without a dog, so yeah, he’s a mandatory participant for part of the day. We’ll have to bring him home for what I have planned later, though.”

Well alright then. “Where are we going?”   


“It’s a surprise, but if you have a plaid shirt, you should wear it.”

Darcy did not have any plaid and that was a weird request for a date outfit, but she refused to let her optimism flag. A very hot superhero wanted to spend the entire day with her and she was going to make the most of it.

***

Their first stop was the pet store because Clint insisted they needed a ball to throw for Buster at the park. Then since they were already there, he also insisted on buying two bags of food and three different kinds of treats. Each one held out for Buster to give a sniff of approval before he added it to their cart.

Darcy put out her hand to stop him when he picked up another brand of treats. “Clint, this really isn’t necessary. I told you, you’ve thanked me enough. I really didn’t even do anything except fall for the sob story the shelter wrote on your profile.”

“I know.” Clint put the bag back on the shelf and shoved his hands in his pockets. “This is partially an ‘I’m sorry’ for the mess I made and partially me feeling bad for Buster because he has to eat this stuff.”

Darcy winced in sympathy. “If it makes you feel any better, I doubt he has a very refined palate. And a little bit of spilled kibble is no big deal, but for Buster’s sake, I will accept your over the top apology. How long did it take you to spell out that message by the way?”

“A while. I kept messing up on the M. I almost gave up and just scratched it into the floors instead. I’m glad I didn’t, I don’t know how much dog food I’d have to buy to get you to forgive me for that one.”

“I’d just make you sign up for a subscription plan.” She tossed him a cheeky grin over her shoulder and headed for the checkout before he tried to buy anything else.

After a quick backtrack to drop the food off at her place, they went on to the dog park, where Buster had a blast sniffing every butt in sight, both canine and human. Once the butts had been thoroughly investigated, he took off, zooming around the fenced-in park like he’d never been set free in an open space before.

Buster ran in their direction, but when Clint waved the ball in his hand, stopped so suddenly he skidded in the dirt. Clint threw the ball and  _ zoom _ , Buster was off like a shot again, chasing it down.

“He’s got a lot of energy. Did they say how old he is?” Darcy asked.

“Only a year and a half. I guess a family had to give him up because he didn’t get along with their new baby. I didn’t think that would be an issue with you.” He took the slobbery ball Buster presented him with and threw it again.

“God, no.” Darcy blurted out, then realized she had been a little too vehement in her reply. “Don’t get me wrong, babies are cute, but I can only handle them in like ten minute increments.”

Clint nodded in understanding. “They’re always sticky.”

“Unlike dogs, which are always so clean,” Darcy said, staring at Buster, now rolling around in the dirt at their feet and chewing on the tennis ball like he thought there might be a gooey treat inside.

“Perfect angels,” Clint agreed, totally straight-faced.

“I don’t think we’re getting that ball back.”

Clint shrugged. “As long as he’s having fun.”

Darcy shot him a sidelong look at his newly introspective tone. “Are you having fun?”

He turned a slow smile on her and wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her against his side. Darcy forgot how to breathe.

“I’m surrounded by cute dogs, I get to spend time with a beautiful woman, and the sun is shining. I’m having a great time.”

“Me too.” Acting on pure impulse, she pulled him down for a kiss.

It was nothing more than a swift press of her lips to his, but when she opened her eyes, he looked stunned. Then his eyes narrowed in on her lips and he leaned in for another. Darcy laughed and darted away from him before he could make contact. She had a feeling that if she let him kiss her again, it might lead to them getting arrested for public indecency.

“Soooo, what’s next on this doggy mystery tour?”

***

The next stop, Clint told her, was just a short walk from the dog park. Drifts of fallen leaves cluttered the sidewalks and rustled under their feet and the air was brisk, but it was a beautiful day to be outside.

Buster trotted in front of them, ball held proudly in his mouth like it was a trophy for Best Dog. Clint had grabbed Darcy’s hand as soon as they were out of the dog park, distractingly rubbing his thumb over her knuckles while they walked.

They passed a bus stop, one of Enchantress’s propaganda posters stuck to the side, and Clint brought them all to a halt.  _ Enchantress: Making Every Day Magical _ , it said. As far as Darcy could tell, it was just a paper poster, but her mane of blonde hair was flowing all around her like a digital gif or maybe more accurately, like a portrait out of Harry Potter. Darcy couldn’t figure out how Enchantress had managed to get these things plastered all over the city so fast. Did she hire a street team or something?

“Here we go, I’ve been waiting for this.” He pulled a black sharpie out of his pocket and handed it to Darcy.

“What am I supposed to do, give her a mustache?”

“Sure. Draw a dick in her mouth, give her devil horns, scribble her whole damn face out. However the creative spirit moves you.”

Darcy considered her canvas for a moment. Dicks  _ were _ inherently funny, but nah. Instead, she crossed out the slogan and wrote a new one, so now it said  _ Enchantress: Fucking Evil _ . Then she blacked out her eyes and teeth and drew spiral goat horns on top of her head. Darcy tilted her head and squinted at it. Yeah, that’d do.

“I like it.” Clint said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “It really represents her inner being.”

“You want to add something?” Darcy said, holding out the sharpie.

“Nah, I did five on the way to your place.”

“So when you said almost everything you saw was already defaced, that was all you, wasn’t it?”

Clint slung his arm around her shoulders and got them walking again. “Be the change you want to see in the world, Darcy.”

They rounded a corner and suddenly the Manhattan skyline, the East River, and the Brooklyn Bridge were all laid out in front of them. The sun was starting to set, casting everything in a soft, golden glow and Darcy couldn’t help but stare in awe at the beautiful view. New York was such a gorgeous city, she just never had the time to take a step back and appreciate it.

They stopped at the edge of a wide lawn and Clint looked around critically, “Yeah, this should do. Get your phone out, it’s photoshoot time.”

“This is our next activity? Take pictures?” Darcy asked. Sure, it was definitely an Instagram-worthy spot, but she wasn’t exactly noted for her photography skills.

“Yeah. You took about fifty million pictures of me as a dog, just sitting around in your apartment. I can’t promise Buster will be as cooperative, but I thought you might like a nice background for your puppy pictures.”

She had already snapped a ton of pictures of Buster as they went about their day, but he was right, this was a much better setting. Unlike the last two places they’d gone, where she thought maybe Clint had been projecting his own personal feelings on doghood, this activity seemed to be purely for her benefit. She never would have thought to do something like this on her own, but she was really glad he’d brought them here.

They worked together to get the best shot, making the most of the fantastic lighting. Clint had wrestled the ball out of Buster’s mouth and was using it as a focus object while Darcy got pictures of Buster from every angle. After the fiftieth or so shot, Darcy paused to swipe through them and while not every picture had turned out perfectly, she’d gotten some really great shots of Buster with the bridge and the skyline in the background.

“I think you got me the most photogenic dog ever. I might need to make him his own Instagram.”

“We have to get one more of the two of you together.”

Clint pulled out his own phone and waved her over to get into position like a suburban mom at a dance recital. He even got down on the ground to get the perfect angle of the bridge behind them. He held it out for her to see and damn, he had a good eye. Both she and Buster were lit up with the last few golden rays of sun, beautiful and lambent and happy.

“Oh man, you have to send me that.”

“I’ll tell you what, I’ll send you this if you send me all of the pictures you took of me as a dog.”

Darcy’s face fell. “And then I have to delete them? I promise I wasn’t planning on using them as blackmail.”

“Nope. You can keep them. I just want copies.”

Darcy narrowed her eyes, trying to see the catch in this deal. “You really don’t care if I have them?”

“Natasha and Stark took a bunch too, what’s one more person?” Clint said with a shrug. “Besides, while I didn’t exactly enjoy the experience, I’m not ashamed of it.”

“Okay then, fair deal. But come here. I want a picture of human you, too.”

He ducked his head, but she caught the small bashful smile he was trying to hide anyway. They leaned in close, lining their heads up for the perfect selfie and he took one shot. Then before she could react, he kissed her cheek and took another. He caught her in the middle of a surprised laugh, his puckered lips curling at the corners too.

“Yeah, I’m gonna need that one too.”

“You got it.” He tapped on his phone and her own buzzed in her hand.

“Wait, how do you have my number already?” Darcy stared down at the incoming text, uncomprehending.

Clint hesitated. “Uh. I got it from Jane?”

“Well that’s a lie,” Darcy said, frowning at him. Jane might give out her number, but he was practically radiating guilt from his pores.

“Yeah, it is,” he said with a sigh. “I had Jarvis pull it from your file. Seemed convenient at the time, coming out kinda creepy in practice.”

“Little bit,” Darcy agreed. “I’m not wild about Jarvis just handing out my personal information to anyone who asks.”

“He wouldn’t. I have special access and even then, you’re file isn’t that detailed. Name, current and previous addresses, known associates, DOB. Stuff anybody with a decent handle on Google could figure out.”

“Yeah, but I don’t even know your last name.”

Clint looked like he finally understood and shook her hand like they were just meeting for the first time. “Clinton Francis Barton, but just call me Clint,  _ please _ . Originally from Iowa, but kinda grew up all over. Parents are dead, got one asshole of an older brother, and currently making my way as a professional do-gooder. Those are the basics. What else do you want to know?”

Darcy grabbed his hand and laced their fingers together, satisfied that he wasn’t going to end the night by making her into a skinsuit. “Good enough for now. What’s next?”

***

Next was dropping Buster off at home. Darcy put down food and fresh water for him and gave him lots of love before she let Clint whisk her away for a humans-only adventure.

The bar, and that’s essentially what it was despite the dedicated Paul Bunyan theme, was loud both audibly and visually. There was bluegrass rock playing over the speakers and the sounds of heavy axes rapidly thunking into thick wood targets and a giant blue ox outside the front door. Clint knew the owner though, and had gotten them a corner lane away from the crowd so they could still hear each other talk.

“Admit it, you brought me here so you could show off.”

“I brought you here because I know you've been stressed out and I couldn't think of a better way for you to blow off some steam than to throw around something sharp and heavy. If I get to show off in the meantime,” he threw and his axe stuck right in the bullseye, “that's just a bonus.”

The combination of the self-satisfied smirk on his face and the way his flannel shirt was rolled up to show off his forearms was really doing it for her. He’d grabbed the shirt out of his car specifically to wear to this place and while she didn’t normally go for the lumberjack type, she’d be willing to make an exception tonight. Then he went to retrieve his axe and Darcy was treated to a view of his extremely squeezable ass. He turned and caught her looking and his grin got even bigger.

“Really? You couldn't think of any better way to help me blow off steam?” Darcy smirked at him over the rim of her pint glass. She had a few ideas she’d like to test out.

“Well. I wanted to take you out.” He shrugged with exaggerated carelessness. “Probably could have come up with something if we stayed home.”

Darcy took a drink and licked the foam off her lips. “Probably. We could find out when you take me home tonight. You know. If I'm still tense.”

Taking the glass out of her hand and setting it on the bar, Clint placed his hands on her shoulders and kneaded the muscles there. Holy shit that felt good. She swayed toward him involuntarily.

“You do feel pretty tense. Let's try the axe first and we'll see where the night takes us.” He steered her over to the throwing line and handed her one of the small tomahawks. “Alright, now square up.”

Hands on her hips, he made an infinitesimal adjustment to the way she was standing that could not have been necessary. He went over some finer detail of when to release the axe, but all she could concentrate on was the press of every one of his finger pads through her clothes. He was standing so close she could feel his shirt brush against hers and it was a struggle not to just lean back and snuggle up against his chest.

He released her and stepped aside and Darcy shot him a wry look. “This isn't going to be nearly as impressive when I do it.”

“You're impressive in other ways. This is just for fun.”

Huh. She knew she was impressive, but she didn't hear it from other people very often. Normally it was stuff like, “you're not a scientist, Darcy,” and “that was an illegal left turn, ma'am.”

Darcy lifted the axe over her head and flung it at the target. It flipped end over end, stuck in the wooden board about an inch from the bottom left corner, hung there for half a second, then clattered to the floor.

“Okay, that  _ was  _ fun,” she said smiling brightly and bouncing on her toes. “Let me try again. How do I get it to stick? Just more force behind my throw, right?”

He blinked and made the sort of very deliberate eye contact that meant he was trying hard not to look lower. “You got it. Once you have the motion of the throw down, then we'll work on your aim.”

Darcy grabbed another small axe from the caddy and fluttered her eyelashes at him. “I don't know. You better show me how to hold it again.”

“I’ll tell you what,” he said with fond exasperation in his voice. “You actually put some real effort into this and you’ll win a prize every time you hit the target. Not just the board, the target.”

Obviously he wasn’t totally addled by her feminine wiles. Good. Darcy liked a challenge.    


“What’s my prize?” She raised her eyebrow at him, intrigued.

“Something to be claimed at a later date.”

She gasped, faux-scandalized. “Clint, are you suggesting you’re going to reward me in sexual favors?”

He sputtered out a laugh. “Well now I am. You gotta hit the target, though.”

Darcy narrowed her eyes at him, then sized up the target and threw. Her aim was better this time. The axe hit the outer ring of the target, but it over-rotated, bounced off the wood, and skittered across the floor.

“Don't you dare tell me that didn't count.”

Clint rocked his hand back and forth. “I'll give you partial credit.”

“What do I get for that?”

“High five.” He held his hand up and Darcy slapped it.

“Whatever, I'll take it,” she muttered.

Fifteen more throws and it stuck in the wood outside the target eight times and she collected five more partial credit high fives. She didn't want to talk about the other two tries. Darcy blew out a frustrated breath. She was going to fucking do this if it killed her. Forget the “prize,” this was a matter of pride now.

Clint handed her the axe he'd just retrieved for her and studied her face with a frown. “Hey, if you're not having fun, we can go get some dinner instead.”

“You shush,” Darcy said, pointing the axe at him.

Clint mimed zipping his lips and held his hands up in surrender, backing up to lean against the bar at the end of their lane. Darcy faced the target and took her place at the throwing line. She raised the axe overhead, inhaled, and stepped forward, releasing the axe on her exhale. It spun end over end over end and stuck firmly in the wood, two inches inside the target.

Darcy whirled and launched herself at Clint. “I did it!”

He caught her around the waist, laughter in his eyes. “I knew you could. Want to try again?”

“Hell no. That was pure luck. I'm going out on a high note. I will, however, take a down payment on that prize.” She tapped on her lips and tilted her face upwards.

He arched an eyebrow at her, then cupped the side of her face and bent his face to hers for an absolutely filthy, lip-lingling, toe-curling kiss. He let her go and Darcy rocked back on her heels, totally unaware of when she had even raised up onto her toes.

“Sure you don't want to go again?”

Darcy bit her lower lip and glanced between the target and Clint's lips. It was tempting but, she was pretty sure she'd have more fun as a spectator. Besides, she didn't think she really needed to hit a target to get him to kiss (or fuck) her.

“Yep, it's your turn. Let's see what you got, Hawkeye.”

They'd attracted attention from the group a couple lanes over with their kiss, so Darcy retreated to the bar to sip her now lukewarm beer. She didn’t  _ need _ the physical barrier to prevent her from launching herself at him, but well, it helped. He was just so strong and masculine and he smelled like an Old Spice commercial. Her body reacted to his in a very primal way and it’d probably be better for everyone if she waited until they were alone before she got in touch with her inner neanderthal.

“So I get that you're very good at what you do, but how exactly does shooting a bow and arrow translate to throwing an axe?” Darcy asked.

“I have excellent hand eye coordination. Doesn't matter if it's an axe or an arrow or a baseball. I'm gonna hit that bullseye.” Clint yanked the tomahawk she had been throwing out of the target and shrugged. “And it's a little bit different, but I trained with our knife thrower for a bit when I was in the circus.”

Darcy laughed because obviously that was a joke, but Clint didn't smile or laugh with her. “Oh my god, are you serious? When were you in the circus?”

“Most of my teenage years. Not as fun as it sounds, but it means I can do things like this.” He glanced at the target behind his back, then chucked it backwards. Bullseye.

“Holy shit,” Darcy breathed.

Clint spread his hands and gave her a cocky grin. “They didn't call me The Amazing Hawkeye for nothing.”

That caught the attention of one of the guys who'd gawked at them kissing. “Bro, are you really Hawkeye? The Avengers Hawkeye?”

Clint looked like he wished he'd kept his mouth shut. “Yeah, that's me.”

Darcy tensed and slipped her hand into her purse and around the grip of her taser. The guy had frat party rapist written all over him. Backwards snapback, collared shirt, and jeans pooling around his too white tennis shoes. Exactly the kind of guy who would start shit if he was feeling a little antagonistic towards the Avengers.

“Man, you guys got totally fucked over by that Enchantress bitch. I just want to say, I never doubted you for a second.”

Darcy released the breath she hadn't realized she was holding and let go of the taser, too.

“Thanks. We appreciate your support,” Clint said, shaking the guy's hand.

“We're having kind of a fraternity networking sesh over there. I don't suppose I could get you to come do a quick demonstration for my buddies. We've got a couple pitchers of IPAs. You're totally welcome to partake.”

“Sorry, but I'm kind of in the middle of something right now.” Clint glanced meaningfully at Darcy and the guy's face lit up with understanding.

“Oh man, of course. Hey let me at least get you and your girl another round.”

Clint tried to decline, but the guy had already waved over a waitress and told her to put it on his tab. “Well thanks, man. What's your name?”

“Chad. Chad Peters.”

Darcy hid her snort of laughter in her beer. Of course he was named Chad. The waitress returned with their beers and Clint smiled for a selfie with Chad to show his thanks. Darcy gratefully traded her warm one for a fresh glass and threw Chad a little wave of thanks as he went back to his group.

“So how often does that happen?” Darcy asked.

“How often do I get free beer? Not often enough. I better not do any more throws, though. Might attract a crowd and Cap frowns on that sort of thing.”

“Oh come on. One more? Please?”

Clint took a long pull off his beer, assessing the bar patrons around them. “One more. If you want to see any fancy tricks after that, you'll have to come down to the range at Avengers Tower.”

“I can do that? I thought it was restricted access.”

“Well yeah, it's restricted to me and my guests. You'd be my guest.”

“Well, alright then. It's a date.”

Clint smiled like she'd said the exact right thing and leaned over the bar to kiss her with lips that were cold from his beer. “What do you want to see?”

“Hmm. Juggle three axes and then get them all in a straight line on the board.”

Clint blew out a sigh. “Alright, but when we get kicked out, I want you to remember this was your idea.”

“What? That was a joke!”

He went to get the axe out of the target, then grabbed two more small axes out of the caddy. Holy shit, he was actually going to do it.

“You better be sure you can do this because I really don't want to go to the ER tonight.”

Clint flipped one of the axes over in his hand with a little toss. “Pretty sure I can do it. Let's find out.”

He tossed the axe higher, and then the other two were in the air too, flipping around Clint's head like a Ferris wheel of death. Then faster than she could really process, Clint snatched one of the axes out of the air and flung it at the board. Bullseye. Of course. The second axe landed an inch to the left, the third an inch to the right, until all three were stuck fast in the board in a neat little line.

Darcy gaped at him in amazement, then a sudden explosion of whoops and cheers to their right startled her. Chad and his buddies had of course seen everything. Clint bowed to his audience, then started hustling Darcy off her barstool and out the door.

A stout, balding guy in one of the bar's official lumberjack flannels hurried over, shaking his fist. “Damnit, Clint, you know you can't be doing shit like that. You'll give the customers ideas.”

Clint held up his hands. “I know, Freddie, I'm sorry. We're going right now.”

“Sorry. You're sorry. Fucking juggling my fucking axes in front of the customers and you're  _ sorry _ .” He turned to Darcy and held up a finger in warning. “You keep an eye on this guy, will ya? He's trouble.”

“I promise, it won't happen again, Freddie. See you next month?”

“Yeah, yeah. Get outta here.” Freddie waved his hand at them, already turning away.

Over his shoulder, Darcy spied one of Chad's friends balancing an axe on end on the palm of his hand. Yep, time to go. They were clearly a bad influence on the place.

***

Dinner was about as fancy as the rest of the day had been. Tacos off a truck, eaten as they walked back to her apartment, salsa dripping through their fingers. Mexican food in New York was subpar at best, but every bite was delicious. Somehow they'd stumbled across the only taco truck in New York that didn't make her want to cringe in secondhand embarrassment.

The air had turned cold and damp once the sun had set and Darcy could feel the threat of rain in the way her hair frizzed up around her face. She squinted at the sky, trying to see the clouds that must have rolled in when they were indoors, but the light pollution just made everything overhead a uniform hazy gray. Darcy hated rain only slightly less than snow, but even a sneaky storm wouldn't dim her mood.

“This was a very good day,” Darcy said, tossing her paper boat in a nearby trash can.

“Aw, don’t say that. Things are bound to go wrong now.” He went to take a final bite of his taco and all of the meat fell out of the tortilla and splattered on the sidewalk. He tossed the rest of it away in disgust. “See?”

“Not very lucky, huh?”

“It’s not good luck or bad luck, I think the universe just likes fucking with me.”

“Like for instance, the fact that you had four paws and a tail when we met.”

“Like that, yeah.”

Darcy looped her arm through his and pulled him down the street. “Well maybe it does, but I have good news for you because I think the universe has my back.”   
  
“How so?”

Darcy ticked off her reasons on her fingers. “I’ve never been in a car accident, I came out of two separate hostile alien invasions without a scratch, I managed to find a rent-controlled one bedroom in Brooklyn, and when I started feeling a little down the other day, a random whim to look at the animal shelter’s website brought me to you.”

“Yeah, you’re doing better than me on every one of those points. Well. Except the last one, I guess. I think that worked out more in my favor than yours.”

“My  _ point _ is, maybe we’ll cancel each other out and the universe will lose interest in both of us.”

“I can see how that would work to my benefit, but what’s in it for you?”

They were in front of her building now and Darcy glanced up at the light in her window that she’d left on for Buster. “Like I said, I had a great day. And that's not thanks to the universe, it's thanks to you. If you feel like I’m not getting a fair deal though, you can come upstairs and let me cash in on my prize.”

She didn't wait for him to answer, just headed inside and started up the three flights of stairs. Thankfully, he was right behind her, his hand hot and steady on the small of her back.

“Still think I'm coming out on top, here,” Clint said.

Darcy gave him a flirtatious grin over her shoulder. “That's okay, I don't mind if you're on top.”

Clint stumbled on a step and caught himself on the railing. On the landing between floors two and three, he caught her around the waist and backed her up against the wall. Darcy laughed, the sound echoing off the close walls of the stairwell. She sobered quickly though when she saw the steady, serious way he was assessing her.  

“What?”

He shook his head and brushed a lock of hair back from her face, cupping her jaw and swiping his thumb over her lower lip. Darcy drew in a shaky breath and slid her hands up over his broad, firm chest. They were so close. Why was he stopping now?

“Might be smarter to wait on this, you know,” Clint said. “We don’t need to rush anything.”

Darcy considered that. No, they didn’t need to rush anything, but she couldn’t see a compelling reason to wait either. She felt pretty sure he’d still be interested in her tomorrow whether they had sex tonight or not.

She skimmed her hands down his chest, over his flat, hard stomach and hooked her fingers in the waistband of his jeans. “Having sex with you isn’t a stupid decision, doesn’t matter when I make it.”

He leaned down and captured her mouth in a hungry kiss, his tongue sliding against hers, hot and wet and dirty in all the best ways. Satisfied he was back on board with the plan, she ducked out from between him and the wall and hurried the rest of the way to her door.

The second her key was in the lock, Buster’s excited barks could be heard through the door. She wanted to hurry for his sake, but Clint was right behind her, pressed up tight against her back. With his hand on her stomach and his lips teasing at her neck, her hands took longer than usual to remember how to unlock the door. Finally she got the door open and Buster jumped all over them in greeting.

“Hello, hello sweet puppy. Yes, we’re back. We didn’t leave you forever,” Darcy said to him, her voice pitched in that tone everyone used for either animals or babies. “You want a treat to keep you busy because we’re about to disappear again?”

She did her best to get Buster settled down as fast as possible, all while Clint leaned silently against her living room wall, watching her every move. He seemed patient enough, but every cell in her body felt like it was calling out for him. Turns out her mom was right all along and owning a dog wasn't all fun and games.

“Okay,” she said, turning away from where Buster was happily gnawing on a mini bone. “Where were we?”

Clint snagged her hand and reeled her in for a kiss. “‘Bout there.”

“Oh, right.” She hummed happily and kissed him again, hooking her arms around his neck.

He bent and picked her up and Darcy wrapped her legs around his waist out of self-preservation more than anything. He spun them so her back was against the wall and then his mouth was on hers, his hands were on her ass, and Darcy finally had some friction right where she needed it.

It felt so good to let her hands roam over his shoulders and arms and chest, but she wanted to touch skin and everywhere she could reach was covered in flannel. She unbuttoned it and pushed it open and growled in frustration when there was more fabric underneath. Stupid layers.

“Something wrong?”

“Clothes. Clothes are wrong.”

He smirked at her, then carefully set her on her feet and peeled off the flannel. The t-shirt followed, but before Darcy could get a decent look at all those glorious muscles, he was lifting her shirt over her head.

“Wait!” she grabbed his hand and pulled him into the bedroom, still tangled up in her shirt. She blindly closed the door behind them before extricating herself and flinging the shirt aside. “Sorry. I think it’s going to be a while before I trust Buster enough to get undressed in front of him.”

Clint laughed and pulled her into his arms again. “I swear on my life, if he’s human, he’s very good at hiding it.”

“I’d still rather not have an audience.”

He conceded the point with a shrug and Darcy kissed him again, sighing in pleasure at finally feeling skin on skin. His fingers skimmed along the lacy edges of her bra cups, light and teasing and completely maddening. She put her hands on his and pushed them onto her breasts, silently begging him for a firmer touch. He pinched her nipples through the material of her bra and her mouth fell open in a quiet moan.

The bra disappeared when she wasn’t paying attention like a magic trick and was quickly replaced with his large, warm hands. He bent his head and lifted one nipple to his mouth and Darcy suddenly had to cling to his shoulders to remain upright.

“Oh my god,” she moaned. “Bed?”

He walked her back until the back of her knees hit the bed and she fell, bouncing on the mattress. They made quick work of the rest of their clothes, watching each other intently. Each new inch of skin revealed had Darcy congratulating herself for her excellent decision making skills. His underwear hit the floor, his hard cock bobbing free, and she reached out to wrap her hand around him.

“Forget smart. I’m a genius.”

“I haven’t even done anything yet,” he said, but then he leaned down, hand cradling the back of her head, and kissed her with an intensity that made her head spin.

Yeah, she was a genius. She crawled back toward the pillows and he followed, his body hovering over her but his hands hot and insistent on her sides, her thighs, her breasts.

“So how am I going to reward you for your excellent axe throwing skills?” He dipped his head to swirl his tongue around her nipple, like she could answer while he was doing that.

His head popped up, a wide grin on his face telling her she’d said that out loud, and Darcy groaned and flung an arm over her face. “Shut up, I get chatty during sex. Well, chatti _ er _ .”

“Do you need a minute to think about it?” He traced slippery, lazy circles around her nipple with his fingertip.

“God, maybe. That’s certainly not helping me think.”

Clint stopped making those distracting circles and stretched out next to her on his side, head propped up by his elbow. “I notice you don’t need to be able to think to keep talking.”

“No, thinking is the only thing that shuts me up.”

Darcy rolled over to face him and trailed her hand over his collarbones and down over his chest, following the sparse path of hair over his taut belly. Her hand circled his cock and her thumb swiped over the head. She liked the contrast between his coarse body hair and the velvety smooth skin of his cock. What she’d really like is to have those thick, hairy thighs of his straddle her, lube up his cock, and just have him go to town fucking her tits.

Asking for something like that so soon seemed risky, though. They’d have time for light kink and feeling out what the other person liked later, she was sure of it. For now, she could ask for something vanilla and still have a good time.

“I want you to eat me out,” she said.

Clint narrowed his eyes in disbelief. “You sure about that?”

“For now, yeah. Can’t promise I won’t ask for something more challenging next time.” She arched her eyebrow at him. “That is, unless  _ this _ is a challenge.”

He scoffed and started moving down the bed. “More like a privilege.”

He kissed his way down over her soft belly and settled between her thighs. Even expecting it, even watching him dip his head down to her pussy, she gasped at the first touch of his tongue.

“Jesus, fuck that feels good.” Her thighs squeezed around his head when he sucked on her clit. “I haven’t had anyone go down on me in  _ months _ . A year? Fuck, I think it’s been a year.”

He slid two fingers into her pussy, massaging her with the pads of his fingers. She clenched around him and her hands twisted in the sheet.

“That’s-- Holy shit, that’s so--” She gave up trying to say what it was, her words dissolving into a wordless whimper.

He kept up the steady twisting pressure of his fingers while his mouth sucked and licked at her clit until her thighs were shaking with the orgasm slowly sneaking up on her. It was finally too much and she came, bucking up against his face and crying out loudly enough that her neighbors would probably glare at her the next time they passed in the hall. He rode through it with her, licking her clit lazily until she was done, breathing fast and lying limp against the mattress.

“So it’s not just thinking that shuts you up,” he said, sitting back on his heels. He watched her with a proud grin on his face, stroking his cock lazily.

Darcy rolled her eyes at him, but she couldn’t keep the euphoric little smile off her face and she crooked her finger at him. “Come here.”

He covered her body with his, his cock nudging insistently at her hip. She shifted slightly to line it up with her clit and her eyes fluttered closed. That felt good enough to make her non-verbal again. He kissed the corner of her jaw and she turned her head to kiss him square on the mouth. She slid her tongue along his and rocked her hips up into his, his cock sliding easily through the wetness coating her pussy. He responded with an even filthier kiss and slowly dragged the length of his cock over her clit.

“God, Clint, you feel so good. I need you inside me, like yesterday.”

He bit down gently on her lower lip, then sucked it into his mouth and she whimpered and dug her nails into his back.

“Please? Please fuck me?”

He kissed her once more, then lifted off her, the sudden rush of air between them making her shiver. “Condom?”

“Nightstand,” she said, pointing needlessly.

Condom on, he came back to her and slid into her in one smooth stroke. He pressed his forehead to her cheek and let out a long, shaky breath. “Fuck.”

“Yeah,” Darcy said, her voice sounding strangled. God, he felt amazing. Then he started to move and Darcy couldn’t help the startled moan that escaped her.

He rocked into her slow and steady and Darcy hitched her knees up around his waist, needing him closer. Deeper.

The rain Darcy had predicted earlier began pattering on the window and Buster was whining at the bedroom door and next door, the neighbors had turned their TV up too high. Darcy was aware of all of these things, but none of them mattered. Nothing but the hot thrust of Clint's cock and the feel of his skin under her hands mattered.

Clint sat back on his heels and hooked an arm under her knee so he could pull her along with him. The new angle had Darcy's eyes rolling back in her head and not needing to hold himself up anymore, Clint had a hand free to tease at her nipples.

“Fuck, yes. God, that's so good, Clint.”

He thrusted harder, eyes hooded as he watched her, his cheeks pinking up slightly. His hand drifted down over her stomach and his thumb circled around her clit, his rhythm never faltering. Darcy whined high in her throat, completely lost to the sensations. Every thrust forced a helpless, high-pitched moan out of her. She pinched her nipples, so desperately close to the edge from Clint's cock and hands, but needing that extra push to send her past her breaking point.

She finally came, shaking and moaning loud enough to drown out the dog and the rain and anything that wasn't contained in that room, on that bed, in the non-existent space between Clint's body and hers. He sped up his thrusts, the steady pounding of his cock turning into more of a frantic staccato, and then he was coming too, hands tight on her hips.

Slowly, Darcy tuned back in to the outer world. The neighbor's TV had gotten louder. She'd be surprised if she didn't get a passive aggressive note taped to her door over this. Buster's whining had gotten louder and more insistent too. She looked at the fat raindrops hitting the windowpane and sighed.

“He probably needs to go out,” she said. Reluctantly, she untangled her legs from around Clint and rolled to her feet. They wobbled a little, but she remembered how walking worked after a second.

Clint stood too and dropped a kiss on her cheek. “You stay, I'll take him.”

Darcy looked out at the rain and back to Clint. “You sure?”

The only answer she got to that was a sweet, lingering kiss on the lips before he scooped his pants off the floor. And okay, that was a pretty clear answer.

By the time Clint and Buster got back from their miserable walk, soaked to the bone, Darcy was dressed again and ready for them with towels and hot coffee for Clint.

Clint pinched his soaked jeans away from his skin in disgust. “I should probably get going.”

“Or you could stay,” Darcy said. She was aiming for nonchalance and missed it by a mile, landing squarely on anxious hopefulness. “You drove and the rain's going to make traffic a bitch. I could wash your clothes while you wait it out. Only problem with that is I don't have anything for you to wear while they wash.”

Clint's smile curled up slow and when he kissed her, his lips tasted like coffee. “Not sure I see that as a problem.”

No, Darcy couldn't say she did either.

***

The next morning dawned cloudless and bright and Darcy squeezed her eyes shut against the relentless sun. She turned and buried her face in the warm shoulder next to her. Clint trailed his fingers up and down her arm, but his eyes remained firmly shut. The soft touch made her arm hairs stand on end and she shivered, either because of him or the early morning cold, or both.

Darcy tapped on his cheek so he would open his eyes and he cracked one open a sliver. “I want to go in to work today.”

His brow furrowed. “Okay?”

“That means I have to get dressed.”

That got a reaction. He rolled on top of her, covering her body with his, pulled her comforter over the both of them, and buried his face in the crook of her neck. God, that felt great. He was like a full-body hot water bottle.

“Clint.” Fuck, he had his hearing aids out. She tapped on his arm, then again, harder, when he didn't respond.

He finally huffed out a sigh and squinted down at her with a sleepy glare.

“I probably have an hour before I have to leave and I really only need a half hour to get ready.” She rocked her hips up against his insistent morning wood. “That means I have half an hour free.”

“Half an hour?” He said, his voice raspy from sleep.

Darcy nodded.

Clint cocked his head, then nodded once. “I can work with that.”

Then he disappeared beneath the comforter and proceeded to show her all the ways a morning could be good.

Forty-five minutes later, Buster whined at the closed door and Darcy leaned down to stroke his head. “Don’t worry, buddy. We’re gonna see him again soon.”

Buster looked up at her, gave one last whine at the door, then trudged over to curl up on the couch. Poor Buster. He fell in love with two humans at once, but only one of them lived here. Well, she'd just have to make sure Clint had plenty of reasons to stop by for a visit.

As she passed the couch on her way to the kitchen, she spied a corner of Clint's flannel shirt peeking out from the cushions. She'd tucked it in there the night before and she pulled it out and folded it neatly now.

Darcy firmly believed that the universe had her back. There were just too many times in her life where things seemed terrifying or hopeless and she'd come out the other side maybe a little banged up, but essentially okay. There was nothing wrong with making a little bit of your own luck though. Just in case.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Please don't forget to leave a kudos, or you can really make my day and leave a comment.


End file.
